


My Dearest Blogger

by Moadlc



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Complete, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moadlc/pseuds/Moadlc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a johnlock fanfic with a twist. Moriarty's jealousy drives him to split the duo apart. Will they be united, even across universes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YourShadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourShadow/gifts).



> This is my first so please, comments appreciated. I would like to gift this to YourShadow because of the awesome guidance I got from them. Thank you and I hope I didn't disappoint you too much!

When I woke up that day, I never thought I would have the best day ever. I normally get up from bed in my flat and make some tea. After, I get dressed to go work as an intern at Bart's. As a pre-med student I need the experience to pass my 2nd year. 

My father never approved my career. He always believed I should go into the family business: the army. I did try and I enlisted for a year but I was shot and sent back home. I was 19 then, it's seems like more but it's only been two years since then. 

When I got back, I found myself a small little flat not far from London, and managed to get a scholarship to be able to attend Medical School. My first year was alright and mostly basic to me, since I had been an army doctor's assistant back in the service. Yet now in my 2nd year things are getting tougher to manage. Hence why I've got a job. 1) it helps pay for rent and 2) I gain experience.

My job keeps me very busy and I really never have time for friends. Not that I have many anyway. All I have is my blog. I sit there for hours fixing it up but I've never written a single thing. Haven't had the inspiration I presume.

But one day, he appeared and everything changed. 

Anyway this is my first post here.  
I know you probably are wondering: "Why now?" And that's simple. I've found my muse and this is our story.


	2. The Figure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authors note: Again I'm very new at this and have 0 notes so far but hopefully that will change soon! Some John reflection this chapter wait till you see what I have planned for the next one ;D Enjoy!**

I woke up this morning to the sound of a seagull outside my window. They get awfully annoying during summer, and never shut their beaks. I decided to get up and start my day seeing how the seagull refuses to let me sleep anymore.

Reaching across the countertop for my favorite mug, I sigh and drink my tea quietly. I've always lived alone ever since I moved out from my mum's yet lately I've started to feel.. Weird. I walk the same room and sitting area but now I feel different. Almost as if something is missing. I of course shrug it off and keep on going with my day. 

I walk across from the small kitchen of my even smaller flat towards my bed where my laptop is. I open it and smile knowing that I can finally get to work on my blog after such a tedious week I've had. 

When I flip open my laptop, I almost throw it across the room when I see Him again... That strange figure that appears in my mirrors or laptop apparently.

He is a tall man with rugged dark curls, a handsome chin that I wish was real so I could-No. I seem to always have weird thoughts about the figure but I shake it off because, well he's a man! I, John Watson am not gay, even if many refuse to litsen.

The strangest thing is I've never MET the man. I've only caught glimpses here and there but never met him, talked to him and I admit I imagine that would be amazing. He seems absurdly intelligent by the way he carries himself. Though I imagine he might get a bit annoying but never a bother because of this.

If he's intelligent he must observe everything to be able to analyze such wondrous things. I like to believe, most of all, that he will make a brilliant, absolutely brilliant, friend. No, Best Friend!

If only we could meet.


	3. Flashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: OMG! Ok chapter 2 finally up sorry to keep you all waiting: this a SHERLOCK POV CHAPTER, I know you are all exited for this right? *cricket sounds can be heard all over* Even if no one reads my story.. :(***

Do you ever feel like you don't belong in a place?

It's a horrendous sensation. Yet quite inexplicably, there's a cure for it. A certain person who comes along and changes the meaning of feelings forever.

I'm not much of an expert on these things called "feelings." Of course I know the definition but I've always been immune to them. That is, before I met Him. John Hamish Watson, the only man who could make me feel. 

I know the idea of I, Sherlock Holmes, the world's one and only consulting detective, having feelings for another person is bizarre. I know not why this is so, considering I Am a human being after all. 

I may understand the part of that person being a man but, is that really so bad? 

Apparently my nemesis Moriarty seems to believe so. His jealousy was outrageous when he realized, I had these "feelings" for John. 

According to Moriarty, we are one and the same, therefore I could never feel anything for anyone but himself. 

He's not very bright at times but is often quite possesive of his "toys." Atleast that's how he refers to me. Even though I despise the name it's sadly quite fitting. Why? We'll let me explain.

In brief, Moriarty is a manipulative and heartless sob who, as soon as he realized my feelings for John, found the way to use them against me. He has my dearest John's life hanging by a thread, even if John has no record of me at all. 

How did that come to pass? Well it's a dreadfully long story. The so-called great Moriarty apparently has enough money to buy a time changing machine. Yes, you read that correctly. The inner workings of this mysterious machine are still a unknown to me but i plan on figuring it out and soon. 

You see, this dreaded machine is my key back to when things were happy: When I was with my John. 

The only problem is that for it to fully work, John must remember my existence, because if he does then I will be able to tether to those thoughts and get back to my world. The not entirely perfect but still wonderful world I used to live in.

Now how does that tie in with Moriarty's hatred for me? His jealousy. He has this if-i-can't-have-you-no-one-Will attitude and, as you can imagine, he wasn't pleased when I chose John over him.

Even if no one in their right mind can blame me for such a decision.

John is the most wonderful, amazingly caring and brightest man in the universe. His eyes are the sweetest shade of light brown and his hair is soft, while his arms are welcoming. When he speaks I only hear pure bliss to my ears and there is nothing I long for more than his passionate lips.

If only we could meet.


	4. Peculiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **author's note: heeeyyyy chapter 3 finally up!! I've had no votes so far please let me know if you like this book :) so I can continue WARNING: A BIT OF NSFW IN THIS CHAPTER. Not very graphic but just a small warning **

I felt a shiver go down my spine and I woke up with a start. I wasn't startled to see Him again, but I can't admit without shame, that I nearly fainted when he appeared in front of me and reached down to caress my cheek.

Was this man in love with me? Was he even a man..? Why would this mysterious figure appear in front of me, multiple times, only to caress my cheek? 

Many questions were running through my head, but that's when it happened. The figure moved down to me and tried to kiss my cheek.

I unconsciously moved away because the figure had a certain coldness to it. Yet, around him my heart felt warm. 

He looked at me fondly, as if analyzing me but not scrutinizing me. It was almost an admiring look, and for a second I could swear I saw a small sparkle in his eyes. Was it... love? How could that be possible?

My head was spinning. This whole situation being too odd for me. The figure frowned slightly, almost as if, without me saying a word, he knew what was happening in my mind. He got up from my bed, and walked back to where I had seen him initially. 

All this time he had been a mysterious figure, who I couldn't talk to, only see through a window of some sort. Yet, oddly enough here he was. His ghostly presence standing in the middle of my flat. 

I thought of maybe running away but for some reason I felt a certain.. Comfort around Him. The room felt....warmer with him in it. This odd feeling filled me. All I wanted to do was stand and tackle the ghostly figure. I don't know why this is so, considering I've never met the man before. Or have I?

"Who are you? What's your name?" I asked the figure. 

The figure frowned slightly.He opened his mouth as if to speak, but in that moment, he vanished.

Then, in that moment I felt.. Empty. When he left, a sensation of longing remained. 

I shook it off and attempted to fall back asleep. As I turned to my side, I looked at my desk table, where I had a small clock. It read 2am. That was all I saw until my eyes shuttered closed and I went into a deep slumber.

When I woke up, the sky was dark and a low rumble of thunder slightly frightened Mrs. Helsinki's cat. Mrs. Helsinki is my upstairs neighbor and boy is she annoying. 

I stumbled to my bathroom and took off my clothes. I stepped into the shower and let the water run on top of my head. All I could think about was last night's events. 

As I thought back, all I imagined was the slender man. His ragged dark curls with his perfect cheekbones. His long and thin legs which matched the rest of his body so beautifully. I then imagined how the figure would look without the restriction of clothing.. How glorious his chest must feel against mine.

I suddenly stopped thinking of Him when I felt a familiar warmth come from my lower body.

How could I get such a vivid imagination, when before I couldn't even imagine a freaking tomato, even If my life depended on it.

I dealt with my.. Arousal. Nice, long strokes which gave me such a relief. I turned the shower off and stepped out.

I almost fell back when I saw him standing in my bathroom as well. Of course, peculiarly enough the figure was also naked.. And in the middle of dealing with his own arousal. Had he been looking at me during my shower and decided to please himself as well? 

I couldn't help but look at him in pure marvel but the more I did, the more warmth I felt between my legs. He hadn't seen me yet because he had his eyes closed but I could tell he was close. 

How could I possibly know that? Unless.. No! I couldn't have.. Had I seen him in this state before? 

Before I could continue staring the figure opened his eyes only to be startled when he saw me. I hadn't noticed till now how close I had gotten to the figure. I looked to him, my eyes half shut and reached up to try to kiss him. The figure leaned down and for a moment the ghostly coldness of the figure disappeared and our lips met. 

It was a brief kiss and then the figure melted away and vanished again. The feeling of longing filled me again and with a sigh, I carried on with my day.

As I was working at the lab in Bart's I nearly dropped a test tube the doctor had asked for nearly 3 times before getting it to him. I usually worked with patients or desk work, but today I had to fill in for a buddy of mine who was sick. 

Strangely I felt almost at home in this lab. I couldn't explain it but then, I saw him again. I caught a glimpse of the figure through a glass cabinet door. As soon as he showed, though, he disappeared. 

I was genuinely startled because he had never appeared to me at work before. Also my encounters had been scattered. I had never gone through more than one glimpse a week, but now had seen him three times in less than 10 hours.

In that moment, I felt as if something was going to happen. An inexplicable sensation of anticipation filled my being and for once, in nearly three years, I smiled.


	5. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR NOTE: yayyyy finally chapter 4!!! Might b a tad smutty and it's a Sherlock POV one :D enjoy.****

I heard a knock on my lab door and was not surprised as a Dup-Molly walked in smiling and with a different shade of lip gloss on her lips. "Some things never change" I murmured to myself.

I had found that in this world I have been doomed to live in for nearly a year now, was a type of parallel universe. I had found duplicates of my acquaintances and made alliances with them to be able to get home.

Dup-Lestrade agreed to help me with getting certain supplies "legaly" as long as I helped him solve some rubbish cases. Something's never change. 

Mrs. Hudson allowed me to live in the flat for free, if I agreed she wasn't my maid. Yet she still acted like it.

Then Dup-Molly agreed to let me use her lab at Bart's and the mortuary, if I gave her one of the smiles she loved so much. Indeed, something's never change.

"Did you say something Sherlock?" Dup-Molly said as she entered the lab holding some materials I had asked for.

"Oh no, nothing. Set those materials down by our friend Bob." I said setting down a microscope slide and reaching for another. 

I couldn't help but smile as I thought back to the events of last night. I have finally reached a breakthrough. And through that I had kissed those amazing lips I had longed for so long. 

John's thoughts of me must be increasing. I've been able to leak through more often. 

I can shamelessly admit I was so taken away by John's appearance. The way he carries himself rigidly, in a military man's way and his slight wrinkles at his eyes because of his always smiling face.

His tender and caring eyes.. Soft lips.. Broad and strong shoulders I dug my nails into in cries of passion so often. His amazing chest which went so perfectly with his strong legs.. His waist I wish I could press flush into and-

"Sherlock, you simply cannot leave these bodies lying around. I have to file paperwork for these and you always- Sherlock? SHERLOCK!! HELLO? Can you even hear me??" Molly said in such an outrageous tone I was snapped out of my daydream. Strange. 

"Sorry. I was thinking of a sample order I need." I said eloquently trying to hide the slight arousal in my voice.

"Oh yes of course. All while palming at your crotch? You can't hide from me Sherlock. You were thinking of that John fellow again. Don't worry, you'll see him soon." She said as she started walking towards the door.

She opened the door and looked back. With a tender smile she said: " Don't think for a moment I don't see the sadness and longing in your eyes. You loved him, didn't you?" 

I smiled at all those wonderful memories that went through my mind. 

The first time John walked in my lab. The first time I laid eyes on who later on would become the love of my life. 

The smile on his luscious lips on our first date. The warmth of his arms wrapped around me. The soothing breaths he took while he slept. 

The understanding smile he gave me whenever I would throw a fit and not speak for days on end. The way his hair was ruffled after he washed it. The way he would place a hand on my shoulder to let me know he was there. 

All the little things that made John, him. All the little things he did to make him so wonderful. All the little things which are responsible for my answer. 

I looked to Dup-Molly and said: "Always have and Always will love, My John." 

With a satisfied smile she turned and left. The moment she did, all I wanted was to go home.


	6. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author note: oh wow! I have 7 reads :D omg I'm new here so that's really cool. Please comment or vote if you like the story so far! I love you! John POV chapter. Interesting encounters.. Hehe enjoy! ****

John, what the hell is taking so long?! I need those samples ASAP!!" 

"Yes doc, I'm - uh I'm going.. Sorry I just-" 

"I don't care just, you know what? I am bloody done with you. Go! Consider it a day off."

The doctor didn't have to tell me twice. I had just seen the figure and had a widespread grin, yet I know not why... 

Then, as I'm strolling down the street, a young fellow, possibly my age, walks by and nearly topples me over.

"Oh sorry, my bad, I-" The man started to say but then he stopped. I had grabbed hold of his arm to help him stand and now we were both stood in the middle of the path, blindly staring into each other's eyes. 

The thing is, I didn't mind yet I felt a slight pain in my chest. One which I still have not found the reason for. Not yet.

"I'm terribly sorry" he said. "My name is Jim. What's yours?"

"John" I replied. I felt a slight distrust toward the lad for reasons I wasn't aware of.

He smiled a smug grin. "Well hello there John, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" He said as he looked at me from head to toe. 

"Excuse you sir?" I said slightly blushing since a man had never flirted with me that openly before.

"Well, a face like yours..arms this strong, you surely must have come from heaven, or perhaps..." He said as he got closer to me, his face grinning and his hands holding on a bit too tightly to my arm.

"Perhaps, you are just pure temptation sent up from hell."

I straightened myself and pulled away from his grasp. I didn't know this man but something within me felt it was wrong to accept his flattery. 

"Well sorry to disappoint Jim, but I'm neither, thank you very much. Good day"   
As I started to walk away, I heard him yell out to me: "No, wait! John! I'm sorry for being so direct, but you are indeed something else. May I interest you in some coffee?" He ran up to me and smiled this time softer. "I know a wonderful little place, not too far" 

I looked at him and his smile only grew larger. "I'm sorry, are you asking me out on a date Jim?" I said laughing slightly. God, sure I'm not gay but here I am hopelessly flirting with a man.

"Why, yes. What do you say?" He stretched his hand toward me expectantly. And with slight hesitancy, I took it and followed him to the coffee shop.

~~

After the coffee shop, Jim insisted he take me home, which he did. I had been having a wonderful time and the pain in my chest was still there but I ignored it. I hadn't laughed so much since I got back from war.

"Thanks, for the coffee Jim...?"   
He turned to me and answered: "Moriarty, Jim Moriarty" 

For a second the pain grew stronger and I winced, but I ignore it still. Probrably just catching a cold.

"Well then, Moriarty, I guess it's safe to say I'll catch you later" I said grinning. He smiled, slipped a paper into my pocket which I assumed to be his number and then he started to walk away.

Just when he was about to close the lift doors he said: "No you won't"   
Smiling I turned towards my flat door. "Moriarty.. Strange name for a stranger fellow" I said to myself.

When I opened the door to the flat I nearly dropped my keys when I saw the figure again. 

He looked worried, with dark circles under his eyes but still glad to see me. I wondered what his name was and boldly I asked.

He then turned away slightly and I catched the faint tear streaming down his face. His lips moved but I heard no sound. 

"I can't hear you.. Write it down? Please I'm so intrigued"

He did as I asked. He wrote a letter and motioned for me to come closer. I did and he bent down and kissed me once again. His warmth welcomed mine but the kiss ended when I felt a paper in my hands. 

He used that momentary presence in the world to give me the letter and wrote down these very words: 

"My Name is Sherlock Holmes. I am the world's only consulting detective. You are John Watson, my only friend, my blogger, my lover... You don't remember me but I am begging you to. The kiss we shared proves that some part of your being still believes and remembers me. search, search those memories John. You must remember who I am, who we were. Only you. You've always been right you know.. I don't have friends, I've just got one."

But then he was gone. And for the first time I feared he wouldn't come back. 

But I wouldn't fail him. This Sherlock Holmes May be lost, but by God, he will never be forgotten.


	7. Leaving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So sorry for the delay, I've been getting a bit of feedback and I would love to say thank you. Any advice to improve is welcome. Thanks for the support! Kudos are welcome too ;D enjoy!

I woke up back in my bed, the warmth of it making it hard to leave, but then I noticed an arm wrapped around my waist.  
Could it be?...

As I turned to look I saw John, MY John holding me tight just like he used to. A grin on his sleeping face. I leaned forwards and his lips met mine. 

Oh and his lips.. Soft and warm as ever. I could feel him smiling into the kiss and as I pulled away he looked at me with those beautiful eyes. 

"Hey, Locky.. Couldn't sleep?" 

Stunned, I answered my voice barely above a whisper. "Just a nightmare... Nothing to worry about" 

He smiled and reached to grab my hand with his and said: "I know, there's no need to worry because you are home now" 

He snuggled up against me and I ran a soft hand through his hair.. Oh how I had missed this. How I missed John.. Grinning, I whispered: "yes, I know I'm home because my home is with you"

I pulled him in closer and kissed him again, not strong, just a brush of lips to make sure he was still there. 

Then as I opened my eyes, I saw Moriarty's face and I pushed him away with a scream. 

With a mock grin he said: "oh how nice of you to say that. My home is you too!"

I threw myself towards him and just as my hands were about to collide with his throat he vanished and I slammed against the floor.

CLANG!

The harsh sound of one of my Petri dishes smashing on the floor awoke me from my dream. Though it had ended like a nightmare. I was getting more and more.. Every night, I could barely get sleep. It's all transport I know, but I had to admit that if I wanted to get back as soon as possible I needed a rested mind to concentrate. 

 

I was close to a breakthrough in my experiments on the machine. I was able to bleed through more often, but the fabric of my very existence in the world I used to call home, was wearing thin. So was my patience. 

I had to find a way to make John remember everything. I managed to give him the letter, which I believed helped to at least bring to the surface of his subconscious, memories of me.

If I could find the way to bring those memories up to his conscious mind, it might be just enough for me to tether to him and go back home. 

For now, i was stuck in this horrid place, in an empty lab at Bart's that had become my temporary housing.

I had made a mess, Petri dishes on every surface, a head in the freezer, which I laughed at because it reminded me of how much John hated that. Microscope slides thrown about the floor where I had flung them in my frustration.

With a sigh, I went to pick one up and noticed how the blood on it had turned an odd shade of pink.....PINK!  
My eyes opened wide and I ran a hand through my hair pacing around the room smiling at myself, yelling pink. 

"How could I have missed it? Oh, OBVIOUS! Pink! PINK!"

In that moment Dup-Lestrade walked in with a coffee and a tea in his hand.  
"What are you going on about, pink?"

"Oh, Dup-Lestrade! I think I might have found a way home!!" I continued to pace around the room, tugging at my curls as if they knew the answers I was looking for.

"What, mate I've told you not to call me that, at least call me Greg if you don't want to use Lestrade! Now what are you on about? Have you made this John fellow remember you? What does it even have to do with pink?" 

I waved a dismissive hand at him about his comment about his name. When I heard John, I turned to face him and explained: "Pink has everything to do with it! Our first case together, A Study in PINK! It was when we first met and became flat mates.. It has to be his strongest memory of me.. If I could find a way to trigger it perhaps through color stimulus.. That could be the key to open the floodgates of his mind, where the memory of me is trapped. I could go home!" 

I started to rapidly scramble around the lab, I had to find a way to make contact again with him. I had to bleed the message through, but how? "How?.." I muttered under my breath.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned to find Dup-Lestrade's brown eyes and salt and pepper hair facing me. He motioned for me to sit down.

"Sherlock, I think I might have an idea.."

He sat me down on a nearby stool and discussed his plan,and as soon as I heard it, we set to work. I had a feeling I would be leaving pretty soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm really trying to make these longer, but English is not my first language and sometimes it takes a bit for my ideas to flow through correctly. I'm also trying to improve Sherlock's POV as suggested by the lovely YourShadow. Thank you, next chapter up soon and better hopefully


	8. Belonging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author note: Hello there my pretties, I'm back! Another chapter yay! It's John POV this time and let's just say.. Things in the kitchen get heated. No major warnings, not yet >:3 This chapter is longer as promised :3  
> Please Vote and Comment, advice is appreciated

This week was by far the WORST. Not a big surprise considering, nothing happens to me.

It all started Monday morning, I woke up and showered, ate and surprisingly there were no signs of Sherlock Holmes. My ghostly friend... Had I imagined him? No. I still had the letter on my nightstand. Strange. 

Anyway I carried on my day and went to work at Bart's. Finished my shift, caught up on my studying and repeat. Lately it felt as if my whole life has always been a boring routine. But it all changed on Friday night.

Jim Moriarty, the nice bloke I had gone out with last week called and asked me out on a "proper date" and I had initially declined. Im not gay.. I thought to myself. Yet he kept insisting until I gave in. 

So, after enduring a whole week of pure boredom, I went back to my flat to get ready. We had agreed to meet at a place called Speedy's on Baker Street and then go wherever we wanted from there. 

I showered and changed into one of my jumpers and jeans. Though the whole time, I kept thinking something was a bit off. I brushed it off and headed out the door. 

And now, here I am walking towards the Speedy's place taking in the London air. When I reached the restaurant a nice old lady, Mrs. Hudson was her name, greeted me with a smile and retreated to her flat. 221B.. I looked at the numbers on the dark wooden door.

Something about these numbers reminded me of something... And that's when it happened. My mind clicked, my eyes shut and I heard a sound. A low baritone cracking and a much higher pitched voice as well. I recognized the high pitched, it was my laughter. The low baritone I didn't recognize at first but that's when i saw it. 

I grabbed the door handle unknowingly and found it to be unlocked. I walked in and I saw the figure of Sherlock Holmes and myself laughing against a wall. Something about Afghanistan being silly? At first I was shocked to see myself and the man so.. Happy together, right in front of me.

As I was about to speak, the other me giggling went towards the door and to my surprise, his hand went right through me. He looked back at Sherlock who had the warmest smile I had ever seen. His green eyes were lit up like stars and he looked so much different. He looked as if he was full of life. His hair was slightly ruffled from shaking his head so much while laughing and his suit was slightly wrinkled at his waist but still suited him perfectly. 

He was.. Beautiful.

I stood with my mouth agape as the other me walked back in and they both bounded up the stairs together. 

Then the laughter faded and everything went dark. I heard a voice in the distance calling me and I jumped when I felt a hand grasp my shoulder. I opened my eyes and found Jim standing in front of me, his face creased with worry calling my name.

"JOHN, are you alright? I was calling you, I think you fell asleep, standing.. "

I blinked a couple times registering what I had just witnessed. Inside of me I felt a wheel turn in my heart, I suddenly felt as if I had found a piece of me. A piece I had lost, but now had. I felt a bit more.. Complete. 

I turned to look at Moriarty and I was instantly dragged back to Earth when I felt a pair of lips against mine. I pushed him away out of shock and he simply smirked at me. 

"Well, hello there, Welcome back Johnny boy"

"Um, hi.." I muttered, flustered and in shock. " Hi, yes sorry Jim. I lost myself for a moment" I said whilst clearing my throat.

He smiled wickedly, grabbed my hand and snaked a hand around my waist. He then encouraged me to walk forward. 

"I noticed, it's alright. Now, come on I'm taking you to this nice little place I know, not too far from here. It's Italian, think you'll like it. Then after.."   
He stopped and got in front of me, his hand at my waist pulling us closer. He whispered into my ear while caressing my hair with his free hand. In a low, aroused voice he whispered "Then, maybe we can head back to my place..play a little game" He smirked and nibbled my earlobe.

I jumped at the touch and he pulled away chuckling slightly. We continued to walk until we reached an Italian place called Angelo's. We sat down in a reserved table right by the entrance, Moriarty facing the window and I, against it. 

He turned towards me and asked: "Have you ever had a boyfriend before John?" 

I was about to answer when it happened again. My eyes fluttered shut and what I presume to be memories flooded my mind. This time Sherlock was in Moriarty's place and I was in the same place as I was currently. Sherlock was looking at the other me rather confused but he had a hopeful glint in his eye. 

"John, I would like you to know I consider myself married to my work and while I'm flattered by your off-"

"NO, no ahem. No I wasn't asking, no just saying it's alright" I said a bit too quickly and now as I watched, Sherlock and the other me looked at each other for a bit longer than necessary ,in my opinion. 

They both cleared their throats awkwardly but even I saw the slightly disappointed look in Sherlock's eyes as he focused them back on the road. 

Suddenly I snapped back to reality and felt the odd sensation of completion within me, as well as a sense of longing. I turned to Jim, who was expectantly waiting my answer.

"I, um.. I'm not sure" I muttered and Jim raised a brow.

"You're not sure, how is that so? I think it's a simple enough question" he laughed a bit but my face was stern.

I was thinking back at the "visions" I had and the long, lingering looks, smiles and thoughtful eyes Sherlock Holmes and I had apparently shared which made me doubt if I had indeed been in a relationship with the man. Though how could I have shared such a thing and not even remember the man if it weren't for his figure appearing to me occasionally? My mind was spinning but once again Jim set a hand on my shoulder.

With a warm smile and knowing look he said " Would you like to leave? You don't seem up to this.."

I shook my head and looked at him, actually with his brown eyes, slight grin, not too pale skin and straight dark hair he was actually rather handsome. I watched him and whispered "I would like to leave yes, but to your place, I think we can skip dinner." I grinned and ran a hand up his thigh. He caught on and we left once again.

I was surprised when the cab stopped in front of the flat from earlier. 221B Baker Street. I gave Jim a puzzling look but he simply grinned and went to open the door. He led me up the stairs I had seen myself laughing with Sherlock. Was this really Jim's flat? Why had I imagined Sherlock here or myself for that matter..? 

As he closed the door to the flat, he pushed me up against it with a gasp. He kissed me slowly at first and he smirked when I kissed back. Then he grabbed my wrists and pinned them up over my head and deepened the kiss. Our tongues moved around the other's, exploring each other. Jim pushed his body against mine and bit my lower lip. I relaxed with a moan and could already feel tension rising in my groin.

Moriarty pulled back, grinning as he looked at me from head to toe with a devouring look. He released my wrists and nudged me to the nearest bedroom. 

As I stepped into the room, Jim ran his hand down my chest and snuck his fingers up my jumper from behind. He removed it and was taking off my shirt, pulling it over my head whilst simultaneously moving to my front. When the shirt came off I gasped in surprise when he kissed me again, harder this time. My eyes flickered open when a spark of electricity ran through me as he felt at my right nipple with his thumb. I nearly fainted at the sight before me.

Kissing me now was Sherlock Holmes, instead of Jim. He looked a bit faded almost dream-like. He pulled back smiling and pulling his body closer to mine, his hips locking with mine and he bucked slightly which made my head loll back with a guttural moan of pleasure thanks to the recently found friction. He smirked as he bit my neck trailing kisses up to my jaw which sent pulses of pleasure down my spine. 

There he was, Sherlock Holmes with his seductively full lips, panting hard his forehead pressed to mine, his soft curls tickling my face and his hands holding my hips. He spoke in his heavenly baritone voice, barely above a whisper, "Mmph, you sure you wish to do this, John?"   
I looked at him still a bit shocked, a moment ago I had been kissing Jim and now he was Sherlock.. My mind was clouded with pleasure and I rocked my hips into his and gasped "Oh god yes.." 

He smirked and kissed me ferociously again. I closed my eyes and he guided me to the bed where he threw me and got on top. I opened my eyes to look at his wonderful and lust filled green eyes again, but was met by much darker brown ones. Moriarty was now on top of me and I recoiled. This had been too much.

I got up and started to dress, ignoring my now tight trousers.   
"I'm, ahem, I'm sorry Jim... It's just too much for me.. I'll see myself out." 

I practically bolted out the door and left the flat behind. My heart pounding in my chest and a tear sneaking itself to my eye.

~~~~

I opened the door to my flat and closed it with a sigh. What had happened to me back there? Everything had been fine and then suddenly I see one man instead of another. Could I have been having another vision but had taken the other me's place this time?

I sat myself down on my bed, trying to think of a solution to all of this. I closed my eyes and took a big breath. I rolled onto my side and opened my eyes when I felt a certain warmth next to me. 

Sure enough, there he was Sherlock Holmes on my small bed, sleeping. I reached out a curious hand and surprisingly I was able to touch him. I unconsciously ran my hand through his hair, it was almost as if this was a habit of mine that came naturally.

He sighed in his sleep and nudged closer to me. I whispered for him to get up, to look at me. He stirred in his sleep and complied.

What happened next I was not ready for. 

His green eyes locked on to mine and my mind went on a frenzy as suddenly thousands of memories flooded me all at once. 

"The name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street"

"I don't have friends, I've just got one"

"I'm not a psychopath, I am a high functioning sociopath"

"I prefer my doctors clean-shaven"

"I'd be lost without my blogger" 

The last twirled around my mind and made my heart skip a beat. Sherlock's eyes were fixed on me and they shone as they used to when he saw the sudden realization in my features. I jumped back and threw myself to a corner, trying to comprehend what was happening. I know Sherlock Holmes.. I believe in Sherlock Holmes. Another wave of memories hit me.

"Not good?"

"Oh, it's you, it's always been you! John Watson you keep me true"

"Hold my hand"

"I'd be lost without my blogger"

Again, the last hit my heart with a pang as I realized, the man in front of me was my flat mate, best friend.. Lover. 

He stood and walked towards me, he sat in front of me, on his heels. He spoke and I heard his low rumble he calls voice say: "John? John can you hear me?"

I stared at him, unresponsive wide-eyed. The shock being too much. He visibly sagged and frowned. 

"Please.. I've been begging you for one more miracle.."

I finally mustered up the will to answer.

"I heard you" 

His face shot up instantly to meet mine, green eyes shining brighter than any star, a huge vibrant smile on his face which was almost strange on him and small ounce of relief as his shoulders released some of the tension. 

I smiled in recognition, I remembered now. Everything about my consulting detective which I had missed for too long. I sprung forward and hugged him. Tears escaping my eyes.. I spoke my voice slightly wavering. 

"I heard you, Sherlock, I heard you. You're here, you're home.. You once said you would be lost without your blogger.. But you have no idea how lost I was without you."

He strangled a sob and returned my embrace burying his face in the crook of my neck.Worried I turned to look at him and asked what's wrong. He answered the sweetest sentence I've ever heard.

"Nothing is wrong, it's all perfect because... " 

He looked up to me with those beautiful eyes and smiled slightly, a tear running down his cheek. I stopped it with my hand, caressing. Sherlock placed his hand on mine and we finished his sentence together.

"I've finally found where I belong"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I know I went from Devil to Angel! But this is not over yet folks, next chapter up soon, Muahaha


	9. Getting There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I see more of you are reading my story, I really hope you're enjoying it!! This is a Sherlock POV, he's back but is it all peaches and cream? Warning for NSFW content. Enjoy**

I open my eyes and find myself staring at a very much asleep John. I would've stayed longer but as the light of the early morning started seeping through the curtain ever so slowly, I simply couldn't bare staying still anymore. 

I detangled myself from the sleeping man and paced to the kitchen where I found John's laptop. I set it down on his desk and waited for it to boot up. 

When it did I found myself staring at the blinking cursor under the "Write New" Tab in John's blog. "Best get it over with.." I thought to myself. With a sigh, I began to type.

"I've never been a man to show much sentiment, but that was until I met John Watson. 

He was different, but he didn't mind. He saw I was different too and I like to believe that somewhere in his mind he decided: Let's be different together.

I was sure that after maybe a week of sharing a flat with me, he would leave. They always left. Though some were rudely taken... But Redbeard is a story for another day.

What was I saying? Ah yes, John. The army doctor who left a war to join a never ending chase. He kept me true to parts of myself I always believed never existed. 

He brought out the good in me. "Caring is not an advantage" 

Mycroft could never be more wrong.

Caring is what had brought me back. Memories stuck in John's subconscious that refused to forget me. I know it all seems a bit surreal but there was a method to my madness. A method I thought I should share. Well I didn't, John is forcing me to write this here, in his blog as an explanation to everyone of how we came to be. 

He believes that telling the whole story first will explain how I was able to use our times together to affect Moriarty to a point where I was able to reverse everything. He thought himself to be invincible, but he didn't know that with each of his visits to the world that became my own living hell, I slipped him a chemical compound which helped me monitor (and later on control) his mind. 

It was all Dup-Lestrade's idea, I must confess he was quite the asset to me while I was away. He asked me about what I knew of the machine that had changed my fate. I explained I had reason to believe the machine was controlled by Moriarty at molecular level. I never stopped to think he might just control it through his brain. The brain itself is a computer after all.

After I administered the last dose to Moriarty, he confessed all the workings of his plan, and the reason behind them. I had laced the last dosage with a truth serum to make sure the knowledge he fed me was true.

He boasted how, with the help of his boyfriend Sebastian, he had created a new drug which connected his nerve cells like a mainframe of a computer. Under the influence of it, he was able to develop a machine which altered reality using the quantum world plain. Or so he called it. After a while of his rambling, I finally found what I had been seeking: a code word. More importantly a safe word. All I had to do was get Moriarty to say this word to his lover, and he would disconnect the machine, it's effects dissipating along with the drug in his system. 

I did exactly that and found my way home. Now, I know it seems that it didn't matter if John remembered me or not because I had Moriarty, but alas you were wrong. Really why can't people just think? What good would've come from escaping, if I had nowhere to return to? If John had forgotten me, I would've been released back into the world at a random point and the damage would've been permanent. 

Moriarty would've won anyway.

This is why I worked alongside Molly and developed a safer version of Moriarty's drug which allowed me to appear to John in the real world. Through those encounters, I managed to retrieve his memories and use them to go back home. 

Moriarty anticipated I might try to do so, and that is why he convinced his other self (The Moriarty in the real world) to create a relationship with John. He tried to make him forget me so I could never return but what he didn't count on was that the person he thought didn't matter at all to me, was the one who mattered the most.

He underestimated Molly, and because of that mistake, we were able to defeat him. Without the compound Molly helped me synthesize, my entire plan would've failed. I owe her a thanks. 

I know that for a simple mind like yours this is all very confusing and I do not regret saying: it's only the beginning.

So let's start with the one word that started it all: Pink. Dup-Lestrade almost didn't believe that "pink" had anything to do with it, but alas he was wrong.

A study in pink was our first case together. It was important in creating a strong base of mutual trust and understanding that- "

The feeling of warm, familiar hands wrapping around my neck startled me from my concentration. Momentarily, of course. I turned to face a drowsy looking army doctor smiling, rather dumbly at me. With a grin he asked 

"Sherlock, what are you doing up at this UNGODLY hour? Hmm?"

I chuckled lightly at his exaggeration, and he says I'm the drama queen? "Well, I'm typing up the story on your blog as you asked, for reasons I am completely unsure of"

John gasped with mock surprise and said "Are you telling me, the great Sherlock Holmes is unsure?? Someone get me a blanket I must be going into shock"

He laughed and pulled away from my neck. I shivered at the loss of contact but recovered instantly. I shut the laptop, that was enough "sentiment" for one morning.

I made my way to John's bed once more and let out a dramatic sigh, while laying down and sprawling my limbs over the small space. 

"John, im BORED... Where's your gun?"

John came running from the kitchen and fumbling with a drawer by his desk. I heard the click of a lock and then he walked back. I rolled my eyes and tucked a sheet around myself before standing once more and reaching the kitchen in three swift strides.

I came up behind him, wrapped my left arm around his waist as my right hand played through his sandy blonde hair. He was still so soft to the touch and I would be lying if I said I hadn't missed him. I felt him shiver under me when I leant down to kiss his neck. Trailing open mouth kisses up to his jaw.

My right hand dropped to his chin and turned his head to face me. I looked into his eyes, which were dark with his pupils dilated. I leaned in and pressed my mouth to his. He tasted like chamomile, biscuits and something rather distinct, something so.. John.

I pulled back and found him staring at me with a look of fond surprise. I chuckled lowly, barely recognizing the sound. I hadn't laughed in a long time. 

I walked away and left John standing in the kitchen to finish his breakfast.

"You should be bored more often" I hear him mumble.

I can't help the smile that appears on my face.

~~~~

Hours of excruciatingly painful BOREDOM pass by. I keep tossing and turning in the couch. The Telly is on but I can't even bring myself to care. In exactly 2 minutes, John will walk in the flat tired from working at Bart's. He will shower, change, eat in exactly 23 minutes and then we will go back to our home. 221B Baker Street and it will finally be just the two of us against the rest of the world.

1 minute.

I look around John's flat. It so horribly.. Plain. I can't help but think that this is a perfect representation of his life without me. I brought light, color and adventure to his world but nothing compares to his effect on mine.

He saved me. John Watson saved a man who didn't want to be saved.

20 seconds.

I hear the faint tap of Johns shoes coming up the stairs. It's strange they don't sound heavy as they usually do. No they are quicker almost.. Enthusiastic. Must have been a good day. 

10 secon-

Then the door bursts open and I see John there. I sit up quickly in surprise. He was early, he was never early.

He had a ferocious look in his eyes and I could help but squirm slightly when he set his gaze on me. He just stood there until he raised his hand to point at me. He moved forward slowly and practically growled when he said "You."

I hate to admit I was completely perplexed because I had no idea what I had done wrong. I suddenly started to feel small. But in his eyes, there wasn't anger... No something more on edge.. Want. I opened my eyes slightly in surprise when I finally understood. I whispered a soft "Oh.." Before he tackled me.

He pinned me to the couch, straddling my hips. He took my wrists and held them over my head with one hand. Then he leaned in close, so close we were breathing the same air, and spoke his voice a low, lust filled rumble: 

"The thought of you has been in my mind all day.. I could barely think straight because of all the things I imagined doing to you" 

He moved to the side of my head and whispered into my ear, so close I shuddered at his breath against me as he nibbled my earlobe. "You are going to do everything exactly as I say.. And you will enjoy it"

I wanted to nearly hit myself because of what I said next. My voice hoarse as I felt a sudden pressure moving towards my groin. "And if I don't? Enjoy it, I mean" 

Then I bite my lip to hold back my groan when John rocked his hips against me, providing friction I didn't even know I wanted. I could FEEL him smirking when he groaned softly and muttered: "I'll make sure you do" 

I let out a sigh when his lips met mine. He ran his tongue along my teeth and I opened my mouth to grant him entrance. He kissed me deeply and let out a soft moan when I bit his lower lip. 

He pulled back and grumbled "Bedroom". We stood and he pulled me over to his bed. I went to lay down on it but he grabbed my wrist and pushed me down onto my stomach on the edge of the bed. He pressed his chest to my back and growled "you will do as I say, understand?" 

I let out a low moan of approval. I never knew John had such a possessives side to him but it made pure lust course through my veins when he took control like that. 

He motioned for me to stand and he made me strip to just my pants. Then he grabbed my hand and placed it on his chest. He ordered me to strip him too. I did removing his shirt and jumper and trousers leaving him completely naked. Of course he wasn't wearing pants. I smirked lightly and risked a touch at his hardening length. He gasped and I saw all control leave him when I wrapped a hand around him and started to pump.

His eyes blew out and were consumed almost completely in darkness and his lips parted. I leaned down and kissed his neck. Down to his collarbone, nibbling the skin there humming when I knew I would leave a mark. 

I ran my free hand through his hair and tugged back slightly to whisper into his ear "who's in control now hmm?" He let out a breathy sigh before he dropped to his knees, whimpering lightly when my hand left him. He tugged my pants down and off. 

I was surprised to see how aroused I already was but soon I had to focus all my attention to not falling when all my blood ran to my erection. A hot, wet warmth covering it. I looked down and saw John looking up at me, sucking at my tip, his pupils blown. I moaned loud at the sight and ran my hand to the back of his head, pushing him deeper. 

He took me in slowly, all the way down to the base, his gag reflex apparently non existing. I bit my lip hard to suppress a very load groan as he ran his tongue on my slit. 

"Jo-John, stop I.. I'm gonna.. Hmmph.."

John then sucked in his cheeks and all I saw was white. I screamed loud as all the pressure left me. I could feel John throat contracting slightly as he swallowed. Not a drop wasted and I couldn't help but smirk. 

He stood wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and I let out a small groan at the sight. He was definitely beautiful. I was a bit shocked at the thought but embraced it anyway. Then I looked down and frowned slightly. He was still aroused.. Twitching slightly. 

He saw the look and said "It's alright Sherlock I'm fin-" 

I pushed him down to the bed with a creak from the springs and kissed him. His mouth was salty but it tasted wonderful just the same. He groaned loudly when I grabbed him again and pumped hard. Pushing his foreskin up and down. Running a thumb across the tip and twisting my wrist on the way down. 

After repeating the motion several times, he came hard with a shout of my name. I bit his shoulder, sucking to leave another mark, lust still pooling inside me even after I had finished. I just would never get enough of my doctor. 

I fell to the side of him, suddenly very tired and used his shirt to clean us both up. I discarded the shirt in a hamper next to the bed and then pulled the covers over us both. My head resting on his chest and a hand around his waist. 

He smiled down at me and whispered.

"That was amazing, Sherlock.."   
I hummed happily and closed my eyes.

We would have to get up later to go back to our old flat. But right now I was in the arms of my doctor and for a moment that is all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing smut so sorry xD and to all my Mystrade readers, don't worry it will happen very soon.. Sherlock was right.
> 
> This is only the beginning***


	10. The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! Wow, some more people have read this and I'm so proud! Thanks!! Now to all my Mystrade fans out there... I keep my promises. John POV!**

Hours passed and I woke to the sound of a cab pulling up in front of the building. I turned my head towards the nightstand and frowned when I saw it was barely 7am. 

Who could even be up at this UNGODLY hour. 

I made a move to get up of bed but found there was a weight on top of my chest. Looking down I saw the slightly sleeping form of Sherlock, his curls ruffled with sleep and his lips slightly parted.

He looked like an angel.... An angel in the way of my very much needed bathroom break.

I pushed him softly to the side and received something that resembled a groan as a response. I stood up and felt a very cold breeze which made me shiver. Makes sense if I went to sleep stark naked.

I made my way to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, splashed water on my face and then made my way to the kitchen. If I threw Sherlock one of my sleeping gowns in his face that was totally irrelevant.

After we both made ourselves decent and had some tea. Which I had no trouble making Sherlock drink, we decided to be on our way. We were going back to our old flat,no our home.

When we made it downstairs we found Lestrade waiting for us there. I smiled at the man, his salt and pepper hair tousled from sleep and bags under his eyes but still very handsome as always. 

Sherlock might have caught my lingering gaze because he gave me a pout, and there is nothing more ridiculous than the great Sherlock Holmes pouting like a child who doesn't want to share his toy. 

Oh god, is that all I am to him? A toy? 

I pushed the thought away and greeted Lestrade. "Well it's about bloody time you get back! London's been a mess without you Sherlock, god help me for saying that"

Sherlock gave him a somewhat uninterested hum and turned his gaze towards the door. Just then the door opened and I was not surprised to see him standing there. A man, a bit taller than Sherlock that stood with such poise and elegance he radiated power wherever he walked. Even though he looked silly with his umbrella. 

I nodded my head in recognition and Sherlock said "Mycroft" rather flatly. Oh god, the Holmes boys and their brotherly brawls.

What did surprise me was Greg. I thought he had met Mycroft before but judging by the look on him, he hadn't. His face was awestruck for lack of a better word, and he was speechless. Though, at one point, I think he muttered the word Mycroft under his ragged breath.

While Sherlock and Mycroft talked, I kept and eye on Greg. I was scared he might look at me but his eyes never left Mycroft. I didn't think much of this at first, many people were usually shocked at Mycroft's presence for the first time but as he was leaving and Lestrade's eyes wandered south, then I worried.

Just as Mycroft was about to leave, Lestrade held the door for him. The elder Holmes looked surprised and pleased? They exchanged looks.. For rather too long in my opinion, and then Mycroft spoke. His voice was a bit shaky and he cleared his throat. 

"Ahem, pardon me but, have we met?"

"I don't believe so, no. You're Sherlock's brother right?" 

"Most unfortunately, yes" That earned a snort from Sherlock and I shoved him with my elbow. He really should learn to control when he's "a bit not good."

"Well in that case, Hello My name is Gre-"

"Gregory Lestrade, Head Detective Inspector at The Yard and a friend of my brother's. I know who you are but I am glad we have had a chance to meet. My name is Mycroft Holmes."

"Well, it was nice to, um meet you too Mr.Holmes" 

Mycroft's voice dropped to a more hushed whisper then but I could barely make out what he said. 

He took a business card out of his pocket and pushed it into Lestrade's front pocket while he whispered: "Please, call me Mycroft...Anytime"  
And then he did the most unexpectedly horrifying thing I have ever seen.

Mycroft Holmes, the British Goverment, winked at Greg after shamelessly flirting with him. Though the flustered look on Lestrade's face was definitely worth it. 

With that, Mycroft left and Greg was standing in front of me and Sherlock (who was growing tiresome) with a far away look on his face that one could only describe as "dreamy."

Sherlock gave a heavy sigh and Greg snapped out of it. He turned towards us and tried to mutter some excuse to leave and just as he bolted out the door I saw him reaching for his front pocket. 

Oh he had no idea what he was getting into, but I wished him luck nonetheless. Managing a Holmes was a tough job, but worth it every single day. 

And with that Sherlock and I decided to head out as well, to go reclaim our home and start our new adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you miss me?"  
> I know I did!!! Ok this is so not over yet!! More chapters to come!**


	11. Cutting Corners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author Notes: heeeyyyy everyone!! I love all the support you've given me and promise to reward you beauties with more chapters full of Mystrade and Johnlock. This chapter is in LESTRADES POV!! Enjoy, Like and Comment***

Chapter 10: Cutting Corners  
As I walked down the pavement hurriedly trying to run away from John's flat, my mind couldn't help but wander to the man. -Mycroft - My brain supplied.  
Such a fitting name for such a well-fitted man. Where he walked he left a stride of power in his wake. The way his hair was perfectly set to one side, glistening in the light from the smooth gel he used to keep it in place. His mouth with perfectly bowed lips, much like Sherlock's, always set at an indignant scowl. I bet he was beautiful when he smiled. If such a thing was possible.  
He was well dressed with what seemed to be a newly tailored suit. Nothing less than perfection... How would he ever like me?  
I shook my head, to clear those ridiculous thoughts. What the hell has gotten into me? I'm a recently divorced man... Old, with tired eyes, peppery hair, why would anyone want to be with me?  
This time I shook my head harder.  
*****  
I finally made it back to my office at The Yard. So plain and with unforgiving windows letting in too much light. Thankfully I had recovered well from last night's hangover with some coffee. I sat at my desk and took up my usual position in which I spent most of my day. I looked around the room at the white and plain walls.. I should really decorate around here... Nah, not my division.  
I sat back in my chair and just as I got comfortable Donovan walked in. She set a pile of files onto my desk and I heaved a weary sigh. She turned, looking genuinely concerned and asked:  
"Greg, something the matter? You look horrible"  
"Well thank you for that happy note Sgt. Donovan" I flinched, that came out more strict than I imagined.  
"Sorry, sorry had a long night, is all" I added.  
I could feel Donovan's eyes on me as I leaned over the files attempting to work and almost jumped out of my seat when she replied.  
"What's her name?"  
My head shot up, an indignant look on my face. Why must it always be a "her."   
I proceeded to inwardly hit myself. What was wrong with me today?? I hadn't been myself ever since... Him. Dammit. No. This is not happening. I am not-  
"Common Greg, don't try to hide it, I know you. This is how you get when you meet someone just out of reach"  
Her voice snapped me from my thoughts, thankfully.  
"Well, as a recently divorced guy, pretty much everyone is out of reach" I replied.  
"Greg" she moved closer. Her face was creased with worry. "It's been over 5 years now, you've got to let that go"  
Her words hit me like a frozen chill that made its way down my spine. Had it really been that long?  
Where did the time go? Suddendly i found myself sitting back, staring blankly at Donovan just trying to remember exactly when did it all end? The long work hours? The tired glances she gave me when i came home drunk because at one point that did become a problem. The year it took me to accept her divorce papers?  
"Greg?... Greg im sorry mate, didnt mean to upset you.. Greg? are you litsening to me??"  
I look up at her, my eyes slightly watery, no. No more tears, not anymore. I smiled half-heartedly at her and nodded. It had indeed been a long time,no more excuses, no more cutting corners, NO MORE.   
It's time.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
After I had lunch, Donovan came back to my office this time with a file. "New Case" she said before she wandered off, presumably to talk to Anderson. I opened the file and skimmed through it. "Triple homicide, doors and windows bolted from the inside,no murder weapon and a single note next to each body". Literally a note, as in a musical note. I sighed and touched the bridge of my nose with the tips of my fingers. Reached for the phone and dialed.  
"Yes, Hello, John? I've got a case, interest-" "YES " he interrupted. I gave him the adress and smiled. It was good to see John getting back on track. Even when he didnt quite remember Sherlock he still acted as though something was missing. He really wasn't quite the same as before. Strangely enough, I was never able to piece that together in my head. Great Detective I am. i scoffed and head out for another long days work.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
It was exactly 12 hours, that it took Sherlock to solve the case that is. A serial killer with a passion for the orquestra that wanted to create a new kind of simphony. A bloody musical serial killer! Can you believe it! SOme people are just complete and utterly mad.  
Several hours passed and i finally went home. Well, i dont know if really can be called "home" but its a roof, bed, fridge and telly. So good enough for me. I paced around my sitting room, nearly tripping on my old rug. I reached for the phone, still abit unsure if I really should do this. I stop pacing, set my shoulders and jaw and dial the number.  
The phone rings exactly 3 times before it stops and he picks up.  
"Well, hello Gregory, I've been expecting your call. Shall i send a car?"  
My lips quirked into a grin because in that moment i knew, this would be the ride of a lifetime.   
I spent 2 hours actually getting prepared, though if anyone asked i would exclusively deny this. Anyway, I was now ready for my....date? With Sherlock's brother... who is said to BE the British Goverment... What have i gotten into?  
Before i could reflect on the meaning of my life any further, the car Mycroft had sent showed up and i closed up the flat, got in and definately did not start fidgeting in my chair becausse i couldnt contain my nerves. What was wrong with me? I was just going to meet up with a guy, have acouple of drinks.. maybe go home hopefully accompanied by said man.. Oh i would love to see the man behind the posh suit.  
My train of thought was interrupted abruptly by the driver saying we had arrived. He opened my door for me and when i saw where we were i immidiately felt self-conscious. Here i was standing in front of the "Boca Di Lupo" in Soho. Sure, it wasnt an overly posh place, but at this time people were there in suits and gowns ordering food i barely could spell out. Yet there i was, standing at the entrance wearing jeans a little too worse for wear, a black tshirt and not quite casual sneakers. Now only one thing went through my mind once again. "What the hell have I gotten into??"  
Just as i was about to shy away, an umbrella handle grasped my shoulder. My heart hammered hard in my chest because when i turned around, he was there. Mycroft Holmes, with his smug grin and silk suit looking absolutely ravishing in the moonlight. His eyes trailed up and down my body and his grin only grew. Was I amusing to him in some way? Is that why he keeps me around?  
I pushed the thoughts away when he started to speak.   
"Good Evening Gregory, I hope you didn't have to wait long?"  
I smiled, feeling more comfortable after hearing his voice. "Not really, just got dropped off actually"  
"Excellent. Shall we?" he gestured towards the door and i made my way to it. A waiter opened the doors with a cordial nod and we were seated immidiately. A wonderful booth at the corner of the restaurant, in the second floor with a lovely view of busy London street. TO my surprise and embaressment, Mycroft ordered for the both of us. Figures, as Sherlock's older brother, he probrably deduced my eating habits since he first laid eyes on me.  
Our food arrived and i couldn't help but feel nervous that we had barely talked at all in our date. Was already boring him? I sneaked the thought away and tried again.  
"So Mycroft, since I pressume you can't talk to me about work without having to murder me, how about we talk a little about you?"  
"Oh? Why me? That is actually an interesting choice of topic, Gregory. All my prior dates went on and on about their mediocre little lives..Very dull"  
"Well, considering you are a Holmes, there is probrably not much I can tell you that you have not already deduced, so lets talk about you. What do you like? Any hobbies besides bothering your brother?"  
He laughed a bit at that. Good, at least i wasn't that "mediocre" yet. He took a sip of his wine and began.  
"Well, Greg, may i call you that? Good. Well, actually I do have a hobby, aside from pestering Sherlock, which you will take a part of after dinner: The Theater. I do very much enjoy going to theter and i have reserved us tickets for a play. It's not very hard when you own the theater hall itself."  
I sat there mouth agape, not believing what i had heard. What first I thought started out as drinks, had now developed into fancy dinner and a cozy play afterwards. My brain was not redundant in saying "What have I gotten into.." Since it decided to make me mutter the words under my breath, earning me a scowl from the man opposite to me.  
He set his fork down and asked, his face serious and.. disappointed? "Excuse me, Gregory. If you are not pleased with my company then you are very welcome to leave"  
I opened my eyes and shook my head furiously. "No,no im sorry. I do quite enjoy your company Mycroft. Actually, i know you probrably wont believe me after this, considering who you are you really can't be trusting of people. Jesus i might seem as a man just after your money right now. I'm terribly sorry to have ruined your evening. I'll go now." I finished my lonely monologue and started to make my way to the door when once again an umbrella handle grasped at my right shoulder.  
I turned and found Mycroft staring back at me, his amused grin plastered on his face as he said: "Congratulations, Greg. You've officially passed my test. I think we'll be very happy, if you so allow it."  
I smiled at him. I should've known. His overreaction was an atempt at trying to see my true colors.The waiter opened the doors once again and Mycroft walked through and motioned his arm toward a car which was pulling up upfront.  
"Shall we?"  
I grinned and muttered "Clever bastard" before getting in the car and speeding off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Author's Note: OMG! Hi this chapter went up much faster than i thought! Hope my mystrade fans had fun because ill be moving back to Johnlock next chapter! see you soon!!****


	12. Fresh Starts Always Spoil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Wow I have so many reads on this!! I've never had so many! Thanks for the support and I'm so sorry for the feels that lie ahead. Beware! John's POV

The night air felt crisp against my skin, nipping just a bit at my nose. The pavement was icy and I had to contain a chuckle when Sherlock nearly slipped on it. For such a graceful man he could be quite clumsy at times.

We were on our way to our old flat: 221B, which was just a couple blocks away from my small flat. Sherlock didn't really arrive with any possessions so we assumed they would be restored in 221B's lounge room. 

A small feeling of uneasiness came over me at the thought of leaving the life I had built behind, though unknowingly, I had left an empty space in it. Almost as if my subconscious knew I would get Sherlock back one day... I pushed those thoughts away, Jesus! Since when am I such a girl!! 

We were almost at the old, familiar flat when I saw him, or rather Sherlock saw him and I had to restrain him from going berserk and slamming into the man.

"Moriarty.." 

Sherlock practically hissed the name. They both had eyes full of fury. He spoke.

"Ah, Sherlock, my dear Sherlock. Always one step ahead of me aren't you? Such a clever boy! See, that is why I love playing this game with you... Such a shame I couldn't get into your lovely houseboy's pants before you ended our fun match!" 

He smirked and didn't even try to hide his scrutinizing gaze giving me a once over. His eyes went from fury to lust and Sherlock positively growled.

"I see you are still up to your old tricks, Moriarty. Really, you are getting quite repetitive. Now if you excuse us, we are going back home now." 

Sherlock put his hand around my waist and faced Moriarty with a nonchalant smile. 

"Face it Jim, you played the game. And this is you loosing"

"Is it? I do quite believe the contrary Sherlock dear... I mean, you said you were going home, but who said there is any home left? I'm sorry but I do believe I have won."

We turned back towards Moriarty again, Sherlock's gaze zoned on him but I could tell his mind was elsewhere. 

I went ahead and played Moriarty's game, it was the only sure way to make him leave without a fight.

"Alright, tell us what have you done to our flat? Made it toxic? Exploded it? Made it disappear? Hm? Because I do recall that you've already done that before"

Beside me I could feel Sherlock grinning. So I continued.

"Or did you go in and steal all of Sherlock's pants? Wow, Jim your obsession is really becoming a problem isn't it?"

Moriarty looked positively fuming with anger yet his eyes were calm. His posture was poised and his demeanor was somewhat... Terrifying nonetheless.

He took in a breath and smirked, his polished shoes shining in the daylight. He then abruptly turned and walked away. Thinking back to it now, as we walked through our flat door, I wish he would have stayed. Though it is wise he didn't because I was going to murder him.

He had set up the entire 221b with pictures and pictures of.. Me. John Watson. Alone in some, in others not so much.

I watched in a growing sensation of fury as Sherlock went one by one analyzing the time stamps, setting but most of all, the person and mood. 

From Moriarty I would have expected something darker than this.. But these were just recent pictures of me, out and about, mostly smiling or laughing. In some I was having a pint with friends, in others I was chatting up some girl or bloke. They were all rather normal, and I seemed very happy there was no way this could affect Sherl-... No.

Oh no. The bastard. Of course.. I see his game now. These are all pictures of me, happy but without Sherlock.. It was the time I didn't know Sherlock existed.

I ran around the flat frantically looking for the pictures I knew I would really dread. I ran to the bathroom and there were pictures of me smiling in the mirror. Ran to the kitchen, pictures of me drinking some tea smiling about some forgotten thing. Stumbled into my room, pictures all over the bedspread and walls of me walking all over London laughing or even with the slightest smirk.

I stopped dead on my heels when I saw Sherlock's room. There they were. The pictures I knew I would regret, all over the walls, floor and ceiling. But the worst was the brand new Telly in front of his bed, playing a video on loop. Me, talking to someone hidden from sight, but I knew who it was now.. The pictures showed it clearly.. Moriarty.

The video went on and we became a mass of limbs as we kissed and god.. Am I really that vocal??

With every toss and turn of the video my stomach turned twice as much. It was nauseating to even think about doing this with.. Him. How could I have ever..? 

Another turn, this one followed by the stripping of clothes. I flinched like I was being burned.

This happened after my.. Date with Moriarty. Even though we never did have actual sex.. We still had gotten pretty far..

At the time I was under the illusion that I was with Sherlock.. I remember the confusion I felt when I opened my eyes only to meet brown ones instead of Sherlock's comforting blueish green.

As the video went on, I was pinned and kissed and pulled and scratched and I felt positively dirty.. I wanted nothing to do with Moriarty anymore, so I turned the Telly off with a bang.

I started to rip the pictures of the walls, slowly sinking to the ground tears swelling up. 

I looked at Sherlock in horror,only just realizing he was sat there watching, but in his eyes where I thought there would be anger, there was.. Sadness?

He looked completely... Defeated.

Maybe Moriarty was right.. The game was won.. He won.. I shouldn't be surprised considering fresh starts always spoil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! Been a long time!! Sorry I've taken so long and that it's so short but my life has been hectic!! Sorry for the depressing chapter.. It gets better!! Promise!


	13. Not so bad after all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Hey guys! Hope you are enjoying your summer so far!! Sorry I'm barely updating I've had some trouble lately.. But everything's is better now. If you like to let me know about anything, feel free! I'm always open to suggestions :) Stay Awesome!

I couldn't face him. Not at the moment. I could hear John talking to me, but the noise was to distant for me to actually hear anything he was saying.

I am still stricken at the level of emotional impact Moriarty's little trick had on me... I've grown soft. Mycroft was right, sentiment is found only on the loosing side.. And I believe I have indeed lost.

Since I had gotten back to John, My John... I thought I had finally won... I was finally free from the nightmare world Moriarty had created. But I was wrong. While I might have been set free, I have apparently chained John to me and robbed him of his freedom... Of his happiness.

This is the reason I never cared for feelings before. They are pointless in the end. 

Oh, John is moving now. He shredding the pictures from the wall. He looks sad. Another emotion.

Why must I feel? I miss the days I was a detached humanoid alien that no one bothered... I never had to wrestle my inner demons before this. They were always rather drowned out by the drugs but that doesn't work now. Because love was the ultimate drug I had ever found, a greater ecstasy and now it has run out.

I may be addicted to him, but John doesn't feel for me.

It's obvious, all the evidence is right in front of me.. Staring at me in the face. Picture upon picture. All stamped, dated, printed and mounted as some sick display of betrayal now seared into the darkest parts of my mind palace.

John is looking at me now, there are tears in his eyes. Why is he so sad now? Is it me? It must be. He was happy before... He even found love judging by the video. I'm not needed anymore.

John is blocking my way out of the bedroom door. Why is he making me stay. I'm not needed here, I never was, never will. I've gotten too attached. This is Redbeard all over again but it.. Hurts even more.

Feelings. How distasteful. 

I place my hand on John's cheek and smile but I know it doesn't reach my eyes. 

If I'm already falling minus well let myself drown.

I lean forward and place a chaste kiss on his lips. That is the customary thing to do when you are faced by your partner right? 

John is crying more, is everything I do wrong? He is reaching for his phone, he's saying my name but I think he's just talking for himself right now. Maybe I should just go. 

He grabs my wrist and forces me back in the room. The Telly is smashed in, when did that happen? 

John is watching me, he's looks expectant.

"Well? Sherlock, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, John"

"Well good, stay here. I'll be back there's something I think you should see. Something that means more to me than anything on these stupid pictures that you see. Moriarty didn't count on something he should have..."

He's gone. Went off to the closet in the hall by the sound of it. What does he even mean? My watch reads 4pm I should get going. I'm not needed anymore. 

He's back. He's holding something in his arms, his eyes are still reddish from tears. He hands me a picture album... It's black with golden edges and it reads in silver letters: "To My Dearest Blogger" 

I remember this album. I made it for John after our first year as a couple. Why would he hand me this now?

"Go on, open it" 

As I look through the pictures I had set, a small sliver of understanding starts to set in my mind. These are pictures of us mostly taken by my phone, in which we are... Happy. 

Happiness, the best feeling of them all.

Some are of John working a case with me. He wouldn't let me take pictures of him alone willingly so these are obviously stolen moments. 

As I keep flipping through the pages some loose pictures fall out. I see John's eyes gleam a bit when he sees them. I grab them and look over them. I flush red when I see the contents. These are not pictures I have taken. These must be some of John's.. They are of us together in bed or kissing. The content varies but in all of them John looks happy just the same. 

There is a last picture in which John's smile is the brightest. Brighter than any of Moriarty's evil pictures or even the ones I took. This is a picture obviously taken by John judging by the angle, I am sleeping on his shoulder with my hand around his waist. He is smiling brightly at the camera. I didn't understand his happiness in the picture until I turned it over. On the back it read: "Finally got him to sleep his damn 8 hours"

I feel a single tear roll down my cheek. I look up at John, I can feel the emotions creeping up on me again. But this time they are not bad ones.

John is smiling slightly. He takes the album away from me fondly. 

"You see? I don't care what Moriarty has made it seem but I'm happiest when I'm with you." 

I glance around the room, the pictures are mostly torn off the walls, laying shredded into little pieces on the floor. I feel John's hands wrap around my waist in a hug. He is breathing erratically which is not normal. When I look down I see he is crying. I gently push him away and his forehead creases with worry. I smile now genuinely understanding what these feelings are all about.

Sentiment is not always an ailment of the loosing side my dear brother. I believe you are wrong indeed. Memories of love, happiness and belonging brought me back. They helped me free myself from Moriarty's game and he will soon learn the error of his ways. 

I see the point John wanted to make. No matter what happens, he's only the happiest when I'm happy too. He cares for me. And it seems I was right after all. I am not needed, I am WANTED. Which is something I haven't been able to say before.And that's not so bad after all.

********************

Three months have passed since the picture fiasco in the flat. We have moved in and have thankfully not heard from Moriarty in a while. 

I still keep a watchful eye for anything remotely suspicious but nothing has really turned up so far. 

We have even worked a case! Finally, it was about time I felt the thrill of the chase and the blood pumping through my veins again. 

"Just the two of us against the rest of the world."

I look up at John puzzled. How could he possibly...?

"You were thinking out loud Sherlock."

Ah yes, nasty habit that is. But I've. Spent so much time with John over these three long years (though we were separated for half of one) that thinking out loud has just been the most convenient way of communicating my thoughts on a case without having to say everything twice. Sadly i have frequently forgotten to turn that off when we finish a case and just kept on muttering about other things. 

John is sitting in his chair, drinking his tea. His hair looks wet. He must have showered between the last 20 or so minutes judging by the amount of droplets leaking from his hair-

"Stop deducing me Sherlock. I know what you are doing"

I tilt my head at him feigning nonchalance. It's always a fun alternative to boredom ticking John of like this.

"Well I can't possibly fathom what you might mean John"

I could feel the grin on my face, John didn't like it. Though of course, when John suddenly moved to straddle my lap, the grin disappeared instantly replaced by a smile. I'm getting used to this whole "feeling" thing. It's... Pleasant. 

John's hand is caressing my cheek, his smile fond. He presses his lips to mine, a chaste brush of lips, barely there. I feel my lips part slightly, as if asking for more. 

"Hmm, that shut you up pretty nicely" 

Just when I am about to retort to that incredulous comment, Mrs. Hudson appears-no, she materializes- at the door to the flat clearing her throat. 

John moves off me, his cheeks tinted a rosy pink. He clears his throat and faces her, she smiles knowingly.

"Um, yes sorry Mrs.Hudson is there something you need?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "Oh no dear I'm fine, that soundproof padding I installed is working just fine! But Lestrade is here to see you boys!"

I groan, even though I had been bored when I initially called for a case, now I had other things in mind that could entertain me. 

"Now, play nice Sherlock!" I hear Mrs. Hudson say as she retreats downstairs again, Lestrade coming up behind her. John moves to greet him.

"Hey Greg, nice to see you. You want a cuppa?"

"Yeah, it's been a while. But yes please."

John eyes me warily almost as if trying to deduce whether or not I will "play nice" Seeming content after I greet the inspector by his name, John retreats to the kitchen to make tea.

As we wait I do my normal once-over of the inspector to see what he has been up to when a slight change catches my eye.

John returns with the tea as I finish making my deductions.

"You have met someone" I state matter-of-factly. 

Greg sputters around the mouthful of tea he had sipped and swallows thickly, clearing his throat. "Sorry-what"

"You have met a person who interests you romantically." Since I had to already repeat myself I just went ahead and continued my further deductions. "You met them not long ago and have gone out on several occasions already. You have not 'shagged' as John likes to put it, but you have shown some physical attentions. Judging by this I would say the person you've met is a man, probably of higher ranking than you as well as stature...."

I fall silent as all the pieces click into place.

Oh my dear brother, didn't you use to say sentiment was the ailment of the loosing side? In that case, I believe this is game over, brother dear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Hi sorry this has taken so long again and for the shortness but I think I have a couple more chapters till we fight the baddies and wrap up this long winded romance thing. Thank you all for being so patient and more Mystrade will come soon now that Sherlock knows.. OoooOoo!! And Moriarty sure is a bastard right? Well his east wind is coming.... 
> 
> Reviews are always welcome! Thanks!


	15. The East Wind

John could feel the breeze as Sherlock's coat flapped in the wind in front of him. They had been chasing a suspect from Moriarty's network. They were determined to find and end Moriarty once and for all. It had been a year since he had tried to get in the way of their relationship, but failed horribly. 

It was moments like this, Sherlock running in front of him, his mad hair flowing in the wind. The sharp burn of running in his lungs. T was these moments that made John feel alive and made him realize why Moriarty couldn't keep them apart. Taking Sherlock away from his was like taking his life. He was his everything and he loved it that way. 

When they finally caught up with the guy in a dark alley, he collapsed and confessed everything he knew. Locations, dates anything he knew that could get Sherlock and John to Moriarty. They brought the scumbag in and let the Yard deal with him while they ran after the big bad wolf.

\-------------  
" Moriarty must be in there." Sherlock whispered to John and Lestrade behind him. "I can hear his.. Machine." Sherlock said the last word with a disgust that scared John. Moriarty had made it clear he wouldn't stop until Sherlock and John we're apart once more. This time permanently. 

Sherlock darted towards the building and John and Lestrade followed suit. They raided the place floor by floor until in the top floor, they found him. John gasped and sighed in relief at the same time. One year it had taken them to find him, but what they found wasn't Moriarty at all.

The bloke in front of them had a beard and beady eyes and look of frustration that made his whole demeanor seem, obsessed. He didn't look like the criminal they knew but it was him. Sherlock could tell. 

"Hello Sherlock.. It's been a while yes?" The sharp and every voice of the criminal said. Lestrade reached for his gun on instinct and John prepared himself as well. Sherlock was eerily calm though, his analyzing sight taking in everything in front of him. He pushed on.   
" James Moriarty. You attempted to take everything from me. You tried to pry my life out of my hands and failed. For that you deserve to rot in a cell or a shallow grave I couldn't care less. Lestrade over there though really cares about justice and all so it might end up being the first rather than the latter. However, to me you are dead" 

Moriarty flinched at every piercing word Sherlock uttered and his face looked even more crestfallen and defeated. His eyes seem to try to plead and find a way to bring that sherlock in front of him to see his way. To understand but to no avail. 

The criminal then smiled.. A broken laugh escaping his lungs and for a moment John and Greg tensed, ready to protect Sherlock at all costs. They knew they were just pawns in Moriarty's game, the real prize was Sherlock.  
Moriarty reached down into his contraption and pulled a lever screaming at the top of his lungs an endless chant of Sherlock's name. A bitter laugh tainting the sound.   
"SHERLOCK SHERLOCK SHERLOCK I O U SHERLOCK I OWN YOU SHER-"

His words were interrupted by a flash and a burning smell and painful screams of the criminal as his machine short circuited and ended the criminal's life. John thought how he had died in the hands of his very obsession, fitting. 

In the turmoil, Sherlock had leaped to protect he men behind him small ashes stuck to the back of his coat. He brushed some off and turned to Lestrade.

"Greg, I suggest you find the way to explain this situation to the Yard accordingly." 

Lestrade nodded and went off to make a call. John turned to Sherlock and hugged him. They felt the relief and worry seep out from their bones in the warmth of their embrace. They had each other and no one was going to be able to hurt that. "Oh Sherlock" John breathed. The detective held him tighter in his arms and comforted the soldier. "It's over now." 

The shared a small peck on the lips and decided to head on their way back to the flat, back home. On the way out Sherlock yelled out to Lestrade. "Send my regards to my brother, if you have time to talk at all when you see him" 

The wink Sherlock added made Greg blushed a deep and red and John laughed as he wrapped an arm around his lover.

As they stepped out into the cold, rainy London night they held hands and walked. Uncertain about their future, they still moved on knowing that it would always be just the two of them against the rest of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the abrupt ending. I just couldn't work on this story anymore. Had a crazy year and this next one will be even crazier thank for reading until now. I love you guys and I will keep writing other stuff so keep and eye out on my profile for anything new! Right now there's a great Destiel story happening that I have some great future planned for (with lots of NSFW) so look out for that! Love you guys!! Comment and Share! :D


End file.
